


Field Maintenance

by Blueberryshortcake



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Red Team Dad, fluff week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 14:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14239656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Blueberryshortcake
Summary: Sarge keeps himself busy with some vehicle maintenance for the Feds. Donut helps out and emotions come out.





	Field Maintenance

“Need any help there, Sarge?”

Sarge slid himself out from under the Warthog to look up at Donut.

“That would be good of ya, son. These vehicles are in terrible shape. Soldiers here don’t have much time for maintenance I suppose… you know anything about mechanics?”

“I’m good with nuts and lube, Sarge,” Donut reassured perkily, he paused and Sarge sensed a wide smile, “And a good amount of elbow grease.” 

“Well then, pass me that,” Sarge caught the rag Donut tossed and wiped his hands. He stood. Engine work would be better with the two of them.

He moved over and popped the front open. “Where’s Wash gone?”  His eyes swept over the compound. They had been moving from base to base over the course of the last few weeks. Sticking together was key. Maybe it was a Freelancer thing, or maybe it was a Blue Team thing, but Wash had taken to wandering off. The moment Sarge, Lopez, or Donut were out of  _his_ eyeline, the former agent would get all high pitched and bitchy. Kid had an atlas complex.

Sarge snorted. Maybe that was taking one to knowing one. He felt itchy when the other three weren’t nearby as well.

“He’s with Lopez and some of the Feds,” Donut answered. “Something about perimeter checks. He said to tell you he would meet us at the mess at 18:00 exactly.”

Sarge grunted ambiguously.

“So what are we doing?” Donut asked curiously.

“Well, seems like that big fella Locus brought this in, but it’s not running properly. These kids don’t know a wrench from a monkey and no time to learn.” Sarge huffed. Wars like this. Where it was all just children left to fight. It put him on the edge of bad memories, but he forced them back. He had to keep himself together. HIS boys were depending on him to keep things normal. Donut needed him, Grif and Simmons were no doubt lost without him, hell even Wash needed him. He was going to die of a heart attack before catching a bullet. The other night Sarge caught him awake, hand on his pistol staring at the door out of their shared room. Sarge was pretty sure it wasn’t the first time either. As for Donut…

He mentally sighed. Hell, he had a lot to make up to Donut.

“Hand me that wrench there, son?”

“Here ya’are, Sarge,” Donut passed it over. He keenly watched how Sarge’s hands moved through the machinery. If he wasn’t so distracted he had half a mind to pimp this warthog out, but his heart wasn’t in it.

He needed to say it.

“I’m sorry.”

Sarge blinked in surprise. Wasn’t that his line?

“Sorry bout what, Donut?” As far as he was concerned Donut had been showing himself to be an exemplary soldier in the face of adversity.

Donut leaned against the Warthog’s bumper, arms crossed loosely, head tilted guiltily. “I left you.”

Alright, the boy was stealing his lines now!

“What in Sam Hell are you talkin about?” Sarge demanded. “When did you–?”

“When we were given new orders in Blood Gulch. You said our mission wasn’t done. That we had to stay,” Donut explained. “And I thought… well orders were orders. I had to go. I thought that maybe… you’d accept it too. We all left you. I left you. I just… maybe things would have turned out differently.”

Sarge’s lips quirked. Donut was always the more sensitive of the crew. Reminded Sarge of Sarge. He was pretty sentimental too. Not that he’d ever tell anyone else that.

“I don’t forgive you.”

“Bu–”

“There ain’t nothin to forgive, son,” Sarge reassured patting him on the shoulder. “I was… blind. There was no mission anyways, remember?”

“But there was **you** Sarge. And I–”

“I’m the one that’s sorry,” Sarge shook his head. “I was the one that left **you**. No man left behind. Red Team motto, and yet, you always seem to be left in the dust. It ain’t–I don’t… When you got shot I should have–I should have come back for you.” He didn’t like talking about any of this. If the situation was different he probably wouldn’t…but… with Simmons and Grif MIA… it brought back a lot of old feelings. A lot of old regrets.

Donut was silent for a moment.

“Hand me that oil.”

“Here you go… and… Sarge?… I don’t blame you at all. You know that right? I don’t even blame Wash anymore. I mean, all of our close friends have tried to kill us. It’s not really new. Don’t tell him that though. I think I’m really close to getting him to join the Federal Army Book Club I just set up and I have a sneaking suspicion he’ll really shake things up when we discuss Life of Pi.”

“How can you not though?” Sarge asked. “I’m your CO. I’m supposed to protect you all!”

“We’re going to get them back, Sarge,” Donut said quietly. “You got me back.”

“But you’re so strong! Simmons panics when he doesn’t have a line to follow. Following orders takes the pressure off, and Grif! Don’t get me started on Grif! He’ll probably fall asleep in a mine field or forget all his amo again. If I’m not there to push him, he’ll let himself get shot. And poor Caboose’ll be worried. After Church leaving without a word I don’t think he could take losin anymore of us. I just–”

Donut’s strong arms were suddenly around him squeezing him hard.

“Oh! Sarge! It’s alright!” Donut sniffled. “We’re going to find them! I promise.”

He relaxed for a moment letting the bottom of his helmet rest on Donut’s shoulder.

“Someone certainly raised you right,” Sarge sighed stepping back after a few moments. “You’re a good kid.”

“ _You_ taught me right Sarge. You’re the first father I’ve ever had.” Donut said easily.

He was glad he had his helmet on. It was bad to tear up in front of the men.

“Lemme show you how to get ‘er started,” Sarge said, voice a little tight with emotion. “Then you can show some of the Feds. They listen to you. You’re a good leader, and these troops need all the leaders they can get.”

“Aw, thanks, Sarge.”

“We better hurry though or Agent Prissybritches’ll get mad we’re late for dinner.”

Donut snickered. “Yes sir!”


End file.
